


I think I'm in love with you (and I'm fucking terrified)

by bloodyhalefire



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, But Raphael loves him anyway, Clary is the bestest best friend ever, First Kiss, Idiots in Love, Insecure Simon, Love Confessions, M/M, Raphael is a chicken nugget, Simon is a total loser
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-19
Updated: 2016-04-19
Packaged: 2018-06-03 07:37:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6602374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodyhalefire/pseuds/bloodyhalefire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn't long after he’d admitted it to himself that Clary found out, just like she always did. And then, just like she always is, she's blunt as ever. Doesn't dance around it, no matter how much Simon wishes she would.</p><p>Written for the prompt: <i>I'm in love with you and I'm terrified.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	I think I'm in love with you (and I'm fucking terrified)

**Author's Note:**

> Saphael has slowly taken over my whole entire life and I don't regret writing this at all

It wasn't long after he’d admitted it to himself that Clary found out, just like she always did. And then, just like she always _is,_ she's blunt as ever. Doesn't dance around it, no matter how much Simon wishes she would. 

 

“You’ve got to talk to him,” Clary says without looking up from her sketchbook. Simon nearly spits out his drink.

 

He shouldn't have expected anything less, if he's being honest. 

 

“W- What do you mean?” he stammers in response, wincing when it comes out an octave higher than intended. He isn't really ashamed though, not  _ really,  _ because ignorance is bliss. “Tell who what? I have nothing to tell anybody, why would you even suggest-”

 

Clary looks up and raises an eyebrow; it makes Simon wonders how anyone can underestimate her because  _ fuck _ does that glare still terrify him. It terrifies him even more now because she’s actually right. Mostly.

 

Because the thing is, while Simon has no problem admitting it to himself (he had his gay panic  _ years _ ago, thank you very much), he  _ does  _ have a big problem telling it to other people. He knows, distantly, that he shouldn't be afraid of admitting it to her because she's been his best friend for  _ years. _ Because of that she seems alright the silence but after three months of not saying anything was apparently the last straw. So ever since she’s just harassed him every day, every hour on the hour with the hopes to annoy him into telling Raphael the truth. Simon is mildly offended, honestly, that she thinks he can be manipulated this way; just because he’s a vampire doesn’t mean he’s lost his survival skills. He’d rather be annoyed than dead _ er,  _ which is the most realistic fate that Simon’ll face if Raphael finds out that Simon has been in love with him for the past six months. Clary’s only right because she wants him to stop pining all the time.

 

“I can’t just do that, Clary,” Simon whines before slamming his head on the table with a groan. “It doesn’t work like that. He'd probably just laugh in my face and then kick me out of the Hotel and then I'd probably die because I'd have no blood and then that means I'll never be able to see the new Captain America movie which-”

 

“Simon.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“This is seriously getting out of hand.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

She puts her book down gracefully and raises an eyebrow. “So?”

 

“I should do something about it,” he replies. It sounds more like a question than a statement. 

 

Clary nods sharply. 

 

“Yeah,” he drawls out, slowly, because this is obviously where he's falling, where he's giving in. 

 

“Yeah,” she says and it's final. She's finalized his death sentence. 

 

Well, his  _ second  _ death sentence. 

 

\---

 

He stands outside the Hotel with an overwhelming feeling of dread. Which he's been feeling for the past ten minutes. Because he's been  _ standing _ there for the past ten minutes.

 

It's been two hours since his conversation with Clary and he was still just as unenthusiastic about this as he had been then. Which means he's as unenthusiastic as physically possible. 

 

“Alright,” Simon whispers to himself after  _ another _ ten minutes of standing at the entrance of the hotel. “Alright. You can totally do this. It's not like your whole undead future is hanging in the balance of this one decision. Nope, not at all.”

 

Except it totally is. And with that Simon turns around (because  _ baby steps,  _ alright?) to leave. Before he's stopped. By the door opening behind him.  _ Fuck.  _

 

“Lewis?” Simon hears a voice call from behind him, and  _ fuck  _ that's Raphael's voice, and it's deep and raspy like he just woke up and Simon’s so screwed. “What are you doing?”

 

Simon turns around slowly and waves awkwardly. “Hey, Raphael.” And then he freezes because  _ Christ,  _ Raphael's shirtless and wearing sweatpants and his hair’s curly and all over the place from sleep and Simon barely holds back a whimper. 

 

Raphael crosses his arms, which means his biceps flex, which means Simon's practically drooling on the steps of the Hotel. “Do you want to come in?” Raphael asks exasperatedly before rolling his eyes. It's adorable. 

 

And then he realizes that Raphael just asked him a question that he's actually supposed to  _ answer. _ “Oh, sure.”

 

Just like that he's standing in the lobby of the Hotel, arms crossed and a wince on his face that's probably going to become permanent once this night's over. 

 

“Is there something you need?” Raphael asks once they're both standing face to face on opposite sides of the room. It's probably good that there's distance between them, no matter how much Simon hates it, because it drastically decreases the chances that Simon’ll just say fuck it to the  _ entire world _ and throw himself at Raphael then and there. 

 

“Nope,” he eventually responds. He sounds uncertain and he curses himself for it, because he's not fooling himself at all, let alone Raphael. What with the frown on his face. 

 

Said vampire just clicks his tongue chidingly in the face of Simon's poor attempt at lying.  _ “What _ is going on, Baby.”

 

“Absolutely nothing,” Simon responds a second too fast, causing Raphael to raise an eyebrow. “Seriously. Absolutely nothing. Can a guy not just want to go and visit his favorite hotel in the world?”

 

Raphael's eyebrow raises even  _ higher,  _ if possible, but otherwise doesn't respond. He's been getting this response way too much lately. “So, yeah. Nothing's wrong.”

 

_ “Dios mio, _ will you just tell me what’s wrong?” Raphael asks. He looks fucking annoyed and that won’t help at all when he finds out what’s wrong. Annoyed and homicidal are never a good combination.

 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. There is absolutely nothing wrong, nope, I’m on cloud 9, lovin’ life, feelin-” And then Raphael takes another step closer and Simon chokes on the air he doesn’t need. 

 

And then somehow, maybe a result of a miracle, Simon decides it's been long enough. Clary was right; he needs to either tell him or stop suffering in silence and get over him. So he squeezes his eyes shut and takes a deep breath. It’s still calming. “I think I’m in love with you and I’m fucking  _ terrified.” _

 

Raphael blinks but otherwise doesn’t respond. Simon tries not to act like his world isn’t falling apart. “I’m gonna go now, I'm gonna leave and never come back and we can forget this ever happened. This-”

 

His next words are cut off by Raphael lips. Simon barely holds back a squeak and doesn't move for a minute, paralyzed, because  _ what. _ But then Raphael starts to pull back, mumbling apologies like Simon somehow  _ didn’t _ want this, and Simon’s not having that. He grabs Raphael’s shoulders and drags him close, crushing their mouths together. And then Raphael fucking  _ whimpers. _ Simon’s never wanted to hear something again more than he wants to hear that in his entire life.

 

Raphael slowly pulls back and it's Simon's turn to whimper, a protest at the loss of contact. “I love you, too, Lewis. Of course I do,” he whispers inches from Simon’s lips and Simon beams. 

 

“Does this mean we can continue this,” he gestures between the small space between them, “somewhere with significantly less clothes on?”

 

Raphael rolls his eyes with a smile.  _ “Si.” _

 

Simon throws his fist up in the air in victory. Raphael raises  _ another _ eyebrow. “If you keep doing that then your face is going to get stuck like that,” he points out with a shit-eating grin.

 

He glares; Simon laughs. “Oh shut up, you know you love me,” Simon says as he sticks out his tongue.

 

Raphael shrugs before wrapping his arm around Simon and pulling him close. He places a kiss on his temple. “Of course I do.”

  
Simon smiles. Maybe Clary wasn’t so bad at the advice thing after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Thank you so much for reading this!
> 
> I cry a lot about miscellaneous fictional characters [here](http://redbarricade.tumblr.com/), so feel free to follow me or send me prompts. Subscribe or comment/kudos! It would mean a lot!!
> 
> I hope you liked it. If you did, please consider buying me a coffee [here](http://ko-fi.com/M4M892KK) :)


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